


The Key

by coolbyrne



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 16:01:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7368169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/pseuds/coolbyrne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maura’s curiosity gets her in trouble. Jane’s denial of her feelings all these years has kept her out of trouble. Jane has the key to both, literally and figuratively.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Key

TITLE: The Key  
AUTHOR: coolbyrne  
DISCLAIMER: Tess Gerritsen, TNT, etc., etc.  
A/N: I try to write based off my own canon that started in Blind Spots, so this is a departure. But I had to fire a one-shot off while I'm in the middle of a 30K+ word Fallout 4/Rizzoli & Isles AU. :)For the gc crew (you know who you are). And for happycamper5, the owner of the key.  
SUMMARY: Maura’s curiosity gets her in trouble. Jane’s denial of her feelings all these years has kept her out of trouble. Jane has the key to both, literally and figuratively.

…..

“The dumbest genius I know,” Maura said aloud. At last, she had an idea what Jane meant when she gave her that label so many years ago. She looked around the empty kitchen for the umpteenth time, as if something would finally reveal itself as her saviour. To her not-so-surprise, the room only stared blankly back.

How long had she been in this position? Based on the ache in her shoulders and the throbbing around her wrists, it felt like hours. The clock on the wall said otherwise. Forty-seven minutes. Over three quarters of an hour since she decided she could escape a pair of handcuffs. “Since you decided to see how the killer escaped a pair of handcuffs,” she lamely corrected herself. Almost an hour since the germination of what seemed like a good idea at the time. Signing out a pair of police cuffs from a bemused BPD inventory worker, she worked on recreating the criminal's escape. He had been handcuffed from behind and attached to a steel horizontal bar in the back of the police van. The van had been en route to a holding cell, but the killer was long gone before then, leaving the handcuffs behind as a tantalizing mystery.

While Maura didn't have a van or a steel bar, she did have cupboard handles that were large enough to fit a handcuff through, so with this simple substitution, she surmised she could sufficiently recreate a comparable scenario. It wasn't until she heard the click of the handcuffs encircling her wrists did she realize the problem. (Why is it always after we've shut the car door that we realize we've locked the keys inside, Maura's mind wondered.) She should have put the keys in her pocket rather than leaving them on the kitchen island where they now taunted her with their proximity: oh-so-close and yet so far.

She couldn't get out of the cuffs and berated herself for thinking otherwise. She hadn’t paid $40,000 for a kitchen make-over only to end up with substandard handles. No amount of pulling or twisting could free her. No measure of cursing or pleading could help. She had tried to kick a stool against it in the hopes of knocking the keys to the floor, knowing in her heart of hearts, the marble countertop wouldn’t yield to such attempts. She even pinched a hand towel between her toes and comedically tried to swat at the keys. It wasn't until the beads of sweat began to drip into her eyes did she realize the severity of the situation. With a sigh of submission, she used her remaining energy to pull another stool closer, so at the very least, she wouldn't have to stand the entire time. Her shoulders protested this new awkward angle, but she didn't care.

“Serves me right for being so careless,” she gritted.

That was over thirty minutes ago, and she had been so successful at lulling herself into a semi-sleep that she’d slid halfway out of her seat when her cellphone rang. Startled, she jerked up into a seating position, then looked around for the phone… only to see it sitting on the coffee table. Six rings then to voice mail, she assumed. “I'll get back to you as soon as I can,” she called out to the device. Another eternity passed when her home phone rang. “Leave a message!” she yelled. Her recorded voice floated through the silence of the room, instructing the caller to do that very thing, albeit in a calmer tone.

“You've reached Dr. Maura Isles. Unfortunately, I can’t come to the phone at the moment, but if you leave your name and number at the prompt, I'll return your call as soon as possible.”

From the chair, Maura said, “You could say, ‘I’m tied up at the moment’.”

She knew she was at her wit’s end when she started giggling.

\--

“How many times have I told you not to leave the door unloc-” Jane stopped dead in her tracks when she discovered her in the kitchen. “Oh,” was all she said, before putting the pizza on the island. “Re-arranging the furniture?”

“Very funny,” she replied, her tone indicating otherwise.

Picking up one of the stools that had been knocked over, Jane draped her jacket across the back and turned it in Maura’s direction. She sat and gazed with an inquisitive expression. Maura shrugged at the silent question and grimaced at the pain the gesture caused.

“I was trying to figure out how Patrick Smythe got out of his handcuffs.”

Jane didn't ask for more because really, what more did she need? Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the keys beside the pizza and stretched back to collect them. Shaking her head, she stood and made a motion for Maura to do the same when an idea occurred to her. “Hold on,” she told her as she reached to her hip for her phone.

It wasn't until she heard the replicated sound of a camera shutter did Maura realize what Jane had done.

“You should have made me say 'Cheese'.”

The sarcasm did nothing to dampen Jane’s cheer. “This will be blackmail material until the end of time,” she proudly announced.

“Just get me out of them, would you please?”

She felt badly for her now and said so. “Sorry. Stand up, let me help.”

Stepping forward, she reached around Maura’s waist with two hands and the keys. With her head slightly bent, she looked off to the side, a mental trick that helped her envision what she couldn't see. She was in deep concentration when she heard a sharp intake of breath. Pulling back, Jane asked, “Am I hurting you?”

Maura’s gaze avoided hers and she replied, “No.”

She started to tease Maura about hives when her body suggested she take a moment to catalogue the situation. What she came up with brought a flush to her face. There had been two ways she could have approached the handcuffed woman: from the side, allowing herself full view of the cuffs, or from the front which obstructed the view but allowed Jane the small luxury of leaning into Maura. It was only when she realized how close they were standing that she understood how easily her body tricked her into the position. So close that they were nearly in an embrace. So close that if she turned her head ever-so-slightly, lips that had previously grazed her ear would be enticingly close to brushing across her mouth. Warmth emanated from her and Jane closed her eyes to the sensation. She carefully placed the key on the edge of the counter behind Maura before shakily letting out a shallow breath. They would never be able to brush aside what she was contemplating as ‘something friends do’. There would be a line that could never be uncrossed. Her fingertips feathered over the delicate bones in Maura’s hands, a fidget that was nervous and yet filled with promise.

“Jane.”

She opened her eyes and had to take a moment to focus, their proximity so near that it took Jane a second to allow sharp hazel eyes to come into view. “Yeah?”

Part of her wanted to be shamed into stopping. _‘What do you think you’re doing?’_ Part of her wanted to be spurred to go on. This had been their story since the day they met, a perpetual cycle of close-but-yet-so-far. Jane was certain this was only going to be yet another spin when Maura leaned into her. Not a gentle sway that might be mistaken for something else. Not an innocuous bump. Maura had arched back and blatantly pressed her body into Jane’s.

“I’m so tired, Jane.”

Jane’s eyes narrowed, pushing aside her desire in favour of Maura’s comfort. “Exactly how long have you been here?”

“58 minutes,” she replied.

Jane couldn’t help but smile at the literal answer even as her concern banished any chance of whatever it was they were on the cusp of doing. She wouldn’t admit a small measure of relief. She wouldn’t admit a larger measure of disappointment. She reached for the key. “Sorry.”

Maura pressed forward again, stopping Jane’s movements in their tracks. “That’s not what I meant.” Closing her eyes, she rephrased her words. “It _is_ what I meant. Partially. But that’s not all I meant. I’m not saying this right at all.” She inhaled deeply and tried one more time. “I’m so tired of all of this.” Her eyes hoped to convey what her vast vocabulary seemed unable to do.

She thought of all the things she could say, all the things she should say. But rather than reply with words, Jane responded the only way she knew how- with action. The key very slowly, very quietly found its home on the counter and her hands returned to Maura’s wrists. She didn’t dare look into Maura’s eyes. They stood motionless, their breathing barely breaking the silence of the room. Then... then... The touch started tentatively enough; a light brush where the steel of the cuffs met the soft skin of the wrists, a gentle stroke as if to soothe any pain. The small radius then spiralling outward as fingertips began to cover more skin from the wrist to the delicate spot inside the elbow. Maura’s shiver at the sensation gave Jane a burst of courage that brought her hands up higher until they met at the collar of Maura’s short sleeved blouse. Once there however, she didn’t know what to do, settling for idle tracing of Maura’s collarbones, dipping fingertips into the hollow of her throat. She tried to raise her eyes to meet Maura’s but could only make it as far as her mouth. Lips that parted in anticipation filled Jane with wonder, and she satisfied her curiosity by stroking a thumb across a full bottom lip. Maura’s body leaned into her, asking for more.

Still unable to meet Maura’s gaze, Jane focused on her thumb, almost spellbound by her actions, as if she couldn’t quite believe she was doing these things to this woman. To any woman. _No_ , she thought, knowing if she was ever going to be honest with herself, it should be now. _You’ve thought about it. You’ve definitely thought about it with this woman._ This woman. _Maura._

She dropped her hand where once more they loitered around the crisp white collar until fingers finally met at the mother-of-pearl button that topped a row of similarly opulent fasteners that, in some way, she now found offensive. They were the keys to the kingdom, guards that stood between her and what she wanted. Her first impulse was to send them flying to all corners of the room, but the courage in her head didn’t translate to her hands. Instead of grasping the fabric between determined fists, they trembled around the button, still uncertain despite having a very willing woman under them.

“Jane.”

The words brought her eyes as high as Maura’s mouth, transfixed. Maura moved closer, close enough that their breaths intermingled, soft shallow puffs of air weaving between them. When Maura tried to close the gap between them, Jane pulled back, not out of fear but of curiosity. Maura seemed to sense this, because it didn’t deter her from trying again. And again, Jane pulled back. This tango of denial quickly ended when Maura captured Jane’s bottom lip between her teeth, though Maura had no interest in being the victor. Instead of reaping her rewards, she waited for Jane to make the next move.

The simple act of touching tongues sent Jane’s head spinning, and when their lips finally met, she felt her knees struggle to keep her upright. She might have thought about it, but the most fertile of imaginations couldn’t have conjured this sensation. The softness. The warmth. The moan. The sound alone was nearly her undoing, knowing she was the cause was her encouragement. While the buttons didn’t face the fate she had envisioned, they were dispatched quickly, their use no longer needed. The silk blouse opened, revealing ice blue lace. Even in this moment, a moment that would change their lives, Jane had to chuckle.

“What is it?”

Jane shook her head. “It’s like a gauntlet to get to the princess.” The smile that her complaint brought gave her the strength to finally look Maura in the eyes. What she found took her breath away. Hazel eyes that were so often light and clear were dark with desire, pulling her in. She had done well to avoid them up until now because she barely had the strength to keep it together as it was. Unlike Greek mythology, she didn’t fear turning into stone; her body’s reaction was quite the opposite. A burn began in her chest that spread like a wildfire through her body, scorching her stomach and raging between her legs. With a suddenness that encapsulated years of want, she reclaimed Maura’s mouth with her own and burned her palms over Maura’s breasts, the flimsy lace no match for Jane’s possessive claim.

An apology escaped the corner of her mouth; she knew her eagerness was rough, that her need was graceless. But Maura only offered more, leaning against the counter, her back bowed, her mouth pulling away to catch her breath. Jane’s eyes roamed everywhere, from the small line of concentration between Maura’s brows to the slightly swollen lips that would later whisper carnal promises in the dark. From the throbbing pulse at the base of her throat to her own hands whose warmth stood out against the cool fabric. From the rigid sternum that rose and fell in quick shallow breaths to the stomach that fluttered under the taut skin. It was all there to be worshipped. All there for her.

The thought made Jane’s breath stutter, but not out of fear. Gone was the trepidation, the denial. Hesitation’s last remnants were swept away at the sight of the woman under her touch, and this time the moan came from Jane. Adjusting her stance, she straddled Maura’s leg and flexed her thigh, needing to get closer, knowing Maura needed the same. Boldly, blindly, she lowered her hand until it reached the hem of Maura’s skirt, then with a confidence she could barely believe, she let her fingers skim upwards, teasing over the softest skin she had ever known. Her only stumble came when those very same fingers brushed against fabric that was no doubt the match to the bra. Her bravado tripped out of the gate until she felt Maura jerk her hips forward.

“I don’t know what…” Jane faltered. While she may have thought about it plenty of times, those were always snippets of the moment, fractions spliced together until it was enough to get her off. She had never thought too deeply about them, never examined the scenarios, always waking up in the morning content in her denial. Now was the real thing, and those moments alone with her forbidden thoughts couldn’t even be classified as a dress rehearsal.

“Yes, you do,” Maura assured her in a whisper. “Let me help you.”

It only took a slight shift for Maura to find a spot to her liking, a minute movement to press against Jane’s fingertips. Jane held them there and watched as Maura slowly began to rotate her hips. She was mesmerized by the honesty of the moment, and Maura’s fearlessness encouraged the same from her. The decision was made before she lost her nerve, and when her fingers breached the fabric barrier, the world seemed to stop. Her eyes slammed shut and all sound left the room save the pounding of her heart. There would be no going back from this. No more excuses. No more denials. With her fingers wet with Maura, she dared to make one last move.

“Wai… wait,” Maura breathed. “Wait.”

Fingers stilled. Fighting the self-doubt that had kept them apart for so long, Jane wet her lips and asked, “What’s wrong?”

With a single shake of her head, Maura banished the doubts away. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Except maybe your mother.”

In a blur that would otherwise be humourous, Jane pulled away like she had been scalded and frantically looked around. To her surprise, Maura let her head drop back and laughed. It was full and genuine and out of all the things that had happened in the last 15 minutes, it was the sexiest thing Jane had seen.

“I’m glad you find it funny.”

The tone did little to change Maura’s reaction. “I’m sorry,” she said through a broad smile. “I was only worried your mother might walk in.”

Jane grunted. “She does have a gift of being where she’s not wanted.” Satisfied her mother wasn’t lurking around the corner, she leaned into Maura but kept her hands in check.

The reconnection stoked the fire and Maura pressed her body forward. Summoning an ounce of restraint, she said, “I suppose it’s for the best. As nice as this is,” she twitched her hips upward, “I don’t want our first time to be like this.”

She suddenly realized what they were doing, what they had been about to do. Her eyes searched Maura’s for any shred of regret. If she was aware of Jane’s worry, Maura didn’t let on.

“Maybe our fourth time, but not our first.”

Jane blinked. “I…” She was floored. She had been ready for anything, but not the smile that invited her into a secret. “I… yeah. It’s more of a fourth time kind of thing.”

“Good. In the meantime…” she tried to look back at her hands.

“Right. Let me get that for you.”

The key clicked in and the cuffs came off. Immediately, Maura rubbed her wrists and rolled her shoulders.

“Ow,” Jane consoled. “You know, there’s a trick to getting out of those.”

“Is there?” Maura asked. “I couldn’t seem to figure it out.”

Jane nodded and with a newfound boldness said, “Maybe I’ll show you sometime. Say around the fifth or sixth time?”

Scooping up the handcuffs, Maura kissed her hard on the mouth before starting towards the stairs. “Why don’t we try for the third time?” Jane’s mouth dropped and Maura laughed. “Don’t forget the key.”

…..

 


End file.
